Caterwauling

I assumed this little cherub was a boy, the way he follows me around.

Oh wait, not him.

Him.

I was watching him eat his kibble tonight and asked him where his balls are. Because I thought he had them but it appears he doesn’t.

I changed his name to another S-sounding name. More fitting for this little bully.

What? I was thinking Treacherous.

At least this little wonder isn’t projecting her insecurities and ill-formed opinions on sweet, loving, beautiful, innocent others.

But it’s still a valid question. Where did his balls go?

I hope they grow back so he will finally muzzle the neighborhood pit bull. I’d happily pay for that rabies shot. Or a tranquilizer dart.

Only Shawnee, Kadie, Morris, Magic, Bernie and two new gray tabbies came out last night.

But it’s good, I hope. I think they might have gotten fed before I got there.

Sheila appears to be back. I saw four white bowls and a lid from a can of kitty food. Was never so happy to pick up trash in my life.

I think about trying to meet her. To thank her.

But that’s the thing about kind people. There’s more stress than joy in people knowing. Hoomins ruin everything.

So, I’m praying for blessings for her three times bigger than she could ever imagine. I sure hope she dreams big.

So weird these days, venturing out.

Florida appears to be open again. Even though my part is supposed to open last.

Anyway, I made a run to support a friend’s business. Well it’s not hers but I’ve gotten to know the owner in my visits.

We had a brief exchange. I said it’s good to see you.

And I thought about the gravity of that statement. Like, yeah just going about everyday life can kill you now.

Sure, it always could. Eventually it will.

But hey, we’ve cheated a particularly cruel ending so far. Cheers to that.

Egg, donut, hot sauce. Worth it.

My skin is too light now for the makeup I was wearing. I think the color was “Sun and Sand.” I’m about the shade of Manic Panic these days.

But that’s OK. Wearing a mask all the time means I only have to do my eye makeup.

I just got a cute mask in the mail. From China. That one went straight from the package to the washing machine.

Can’t wait to do a car selfie with that one. Who doesn’t love a good car selfie?

I think I’ll do a fashion show today. I have dresses I was planning to return to Ross since boys don’t like girls who like to look and feel good. So I’ll get a shopping bag, pull the stuff with tags and it will be a productive “shopping trip.”

Speaking of productivity, I am now *checks cute pink Fitbit* 36 hours into a renewed social media distancing effort.

One doesn’t have to see a tree fall in the forest to know it is proud of its refusal to stand.

Enjoy all your lies and delusions. You don’t deserve any more of my attention.

Goodnight, moon pie.

I like to think her name is Sheila.

I don’t know why. Maybe it’s that sheela means lotus flower, which symbolizes purity and rebirth. At least, that’s what my friend said when she got a pink lotus flower tattoo, long before the internet was a thing.

This new Sheila feeds my cat colony in the mornings. Truck drivers would tell me about her, that she was always getting in trouble with local businesses for her kindness. So she’d park far away and lug her little white styrofoam bowls and cans to feed the babies.

She mostly got in trouble because she didn’t always clean up. That’s why I got forewarned — feed them if you like; just make it look like you were never here.

That was a welcome change from everywhere I’ve lived where they say don’t feed them at all.

Sheila got pretty good about cleaning up. And if she missed a bowl — the same white bowls I bring from the dollar store — or a can, I take them for her.

I haven’t seen any of her things lately.

I wonder if she is staying inside because of the quarantine.

Or if she lost her income and feeding our dozen or so strays got to be too much.

Most cats come every day. But lately there are a few missing.

One hopes they found homes. There are plenty of housing developments nearby.

Knowing the main road they live by, though, that’s a very hopeful statement.

There are also a lot of predators. I love a good raccoon or possum or bird. But I’ve broken up enough duck and cat fights to know that the biggest enemy might have the same wings or tail that you do.

Anyway. Sheila is on my mind today.

My hope is she scooped up a kitty and is loving on him or her in lockdown.

Maybe Sheila had some favorites and it’s too heartbreaking to come back and not see them.

We all name these cats. All the locals who walk by have names for each of them, too.

The story goes that an elderly lady nearby collected like 80 cats and couldn’t take care of them. Which explains why we have literally every color, breed and size roaming around.

I hope she does come out and I just don’t see the evidence.

I hope she is healthy and well, wherever she is.

I often think about dropping down to a couple times a week. Traveling daily is harder than it is costly, and not just in money terms.

But then I think of those empty bellies. Those kitties who go sleep on a pothole cover or find a safe place on a wall when I leave, and I just can’t fit it in my head.

I wonder if the remaining kitties miss the ones that are missing.

Or if they say, bye, more foodz for me when the hoomins do come.

I don’t know.

I do know I can’t wait to see my Bernie, Magic, Morris, Cocoa, Cal, Bella, Kenya and Shawnee again. And I’ll always look for “pretty Kenya” (the long-haired female version of him) and a handful of others I haven’t spotted in a while.

My prayer list is long. I hope the gods and kitty gods hear it.

May they all have a full belly and a safe place to land, and a long, secure life to go with it. Thank you that I have the means to give them some nourishment till then.

I do love a good Sunfest. I get my favorite drink there. Some bartenders are better than others; I know the best.

Now to figure out if I can go to any of the other shows this summer that I already bought seats for.

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels

The dizzy dancing way you feel

As every fairy tale comes real

I’ve looked at love that way.

So many things I would have done

But clouds got in my way

Coint …

Nothing less attractive.

Tired of the bitch trend.

He deserves a Noble Prize. Truly.

Have a lovely life. I am certainly sorry…

For him.

Did you manage to shower today or will it be another week? Poo-tinky.

Great name. Too pretty for this disease.

And pantaloons.

I’ve read the DSM. I’m a very good researcher.

Wife is bonkers betty.

I would respect her more if she were a trump voter who didn’t live to insult people.

You are the luckiest person on earth. Act like it instead of wasting all your time talking shit.

To be clear, I don’t want your luck, your looks or your man.

The only people I’m jealous of are the ones who don’t know you.

I still put him in my nighttime prayers.

Now I ask that he finds his happiness.

Even though he stopped caring about mine.